The Rebellious Stepdaughter, Part 5 [Mf][blkmail][inc]

Dawn hits me hard the next morning. I’m not as young as I used to be, and partying apparently takes a lot more out of me than I remember. I sit up in bed and resolve to take some Excedrin to keep this headache at bay. I have big plans for today: heading to Home Depot to get supplies to fix Carrie’s bedroom door, and trying out the third and most dangerous part of my plan to turn Carrie from a rebellious teen whore into an obedient, secret cumslut for me. After all, my wife is coming back from her business trip in about a week’s time. If this plan is going to blow up in my face, I need to have time to work out… alternate arrangements… for my stepdaughter’s future. I run through everything in my mind. I have the perfect blackmail in place to deter Carrie from going to the police, and the perfect cover story to deflect blame back onto her if she does bring the authorities down on my head. Between her wild past and my mild-mannered facade, it won’t take much effort to sell the story that Carrie is spinning wild allegations in order to turn attention away from her illegal activities. Drugs and baggies are hidden throughout her room and in her car, sealing the deal for possession with intent to sell. She also knows that if she tries anything, I call my biker friends who will then use her up and leave her for dead in a ditch somewhere safely out of the way. As I make my way downstairs to make breakfast for myself and my captive, I decide that I need to do more than just level a threat of punishment against Carrie should she disobey me. No, I need to give her some sort of positive reinforcement if she complies. I’ve been lucky enough to maintain a lucrative, steady job for the past few years and have some money socked away. To a teenage girl, that money may well look like a fortune and could buy a lot of nice things. A plan begins to take shape, and I resolve to go talk to Carrie before heading out to get a new door. About fifteen minutes later, I’m pushing aside the china cabinet with which Jacob, Cass and I blocked the basement door last night. I made the hasty decision to leave Carrie unbound overnight, and I’m acutely aware that I may have to endure some sort of ill-conceived escape attempt out of her. I have my stun gun with me in case she gets out of hand. Cautiously I open the door and make my way down the flight of stairs into the basement. I’m in luck, Carrie is still asleep. I’m not sure if her lack of plotting indicates that I can trust her, or simply that she’s exhausted beyond measure after last night. She’s shed the corset, stockings and schoolgirl skirt – I can’t say that I blame her, they can’t be comfortable – and for lack of an alternative she’s sleeping naked. Shafts of light pour in through the thick block-glass window and fall on her upper body, making her red hair dance in the light. She’s sleeping on her stomach with one knee pulled up, and her arms around the pillow on which her head is resting. The sheet only covers her legs and hips, leaving her exposed from her lower back upwards. I admire the curvature of her back and shoulders, the roller-coaster curve of her hips and waist. Her 32DD’s swell beneath her, bulging outwards against the resistance of the mattress and making me reconsider my resolve not to fuck her just yet. I sit the tray of food down as quietly as I can, checking to be sure she doesn’t stir. I slowly pull the sheet down from her hips, revealing a pale, tight ass and firm thighs. I unzip my jeans and take my dick out – this girl will probably never lose her ability to get me hard at first sight – and climb into bed behind her. She stirs as I spit into my hand for lube, surely she’s dry, then wakes fully and whips her head around to see me behind her. “NO!” she screams and tries to get away, “no more you fucking bastard!” I’m too quick for her, though, and grab her hips and pull her back to me. With one hand I force her head into the pillow, laying my full weight onto her so that she can’t squirm away. With my other hand I work my dick into her tight, fiery pussy and begin to pound her doggy style. Once I’m inside her, I wrap my hands securely around her small, toned waist and leave her upper body free to struggle in vain. Carrie is trying for all she’s worth to get away, and unbeknownst to her these struggles actually make the sex feel better for me. Her hands are clawing at the pillows, at the headboard, trying to find purchase so that she can pull herself away from me. I long to reach up and grab a fistful of her red hair, or grope her bouncing, swinging tits, but I don’t dare loosen my grip on her. “Oh my god” she’s sobbing, “just leave me the fuck alone, you pervert!” I push her further up on the bed, so far that I can bang her head into the headboard with a powerful thrust. I do it once for effect, she cries out in pain but stops talking. I’m not going to draw this out – this is just a short, sharp fuck to clear my head and calm me down before I have a serious talk with her. I let my eyes wander over her body: her back and shoulders tight from trying to squirm away, the swell of her hips against her narrow waist and the dimples at the small of her back… that’s it, I’m done. I can feel the orgasm burning inside my shaft, and in the heat of the moment I reach one hand up and grab Carrie by the hair, pulling her back until she’s forced to support herself with her arms. I pull out and beat myself off all over her back and ass, shooting a few ropes of cum into her hair, showering her completely. When the intensity has subsided, I drop her. She falls face-first onto the bed, then quickly scrambles up and backs away from me, oblivious to the epic load of cum on her back. “Go get cleaned up, princess.” I say to her as I fasten my pants back, “I have something I need to discuss with you.” I can see the contempt in her eyes as she backs away from me, doing her best to cover her perky breasts as she moves towards the bathroom. She darts inside and closes the door, finding a brief refuge at last from my prying eyes. I hear the shower engage. About a half hour later, she emerges with one towel covering her body and a second one wrapped around her wet hair. I can still make out her figure beneath the towel, but it doesn’t drive me insane… glad to have had that release before to clear my head. Carrie stands at the other end of the basement, eyes cold fire. “You said you wanted to talk? Well, talk.” She set me in a hard stare; one which I assumed was intended to wither me. It didn’t. “Okay, princess. You know all about the bad things I’ve got arranged to bring down on you if you try to tell anyone about these past few days. Best case scenario, you’ll find yourself in jail for possession with intent. Worst case scenario, I call Cass and Jacob and they have their way with you – they and about ten other bikers – and leave what’s left of you in a ditch somewhere.” I see a hint of fear flash over her eyes, for a moment the icy cold façade breaks and I see a teenage girl afraid for her life. Good, I think. Be afraid, it’s good motivation. “Everyone will assume you’ve run off with whatever piece of shit boyfriend you’re blowing this week, and no one will look for you very hard.” I stand up and walk over towards her. She backs away, until she bumps into the wall. “Now, that all sounds perfectly awful, and it’s meant to. I want you to know that your life is over if you cross me. But, this isn’t all bad for you. You know I make good money, and I could really spoil you if I were so inclined. So think about it. In a few years you’ll move out, move away, and go on to do who-knows-what with your life. You and I will likely never see each other again, since I plan to dump your frosty box mother as soon as you move away. But in the meantime… keep me happy, and I’ll keep you happy. You get to have your same life, with two exceptions: you’re at my beck and call if I want you to get me off, and you get to go shopping once a week with a chunk of money I’ll give you. Think about it, princess… how many guys do you fuck in a week anyway? How many guys”, I reach up and cup the side of her face here, “have you let blow their load all over this pretty face? This will just be one more dick in your mouth, and you’ll be rewarded for being my good little slut until you go your own way.” Her face is set into a mask, unreadable. I gesture towards her tray of food. “Eat something. I have to go to the hardware store to fix up your door. By the time I’m finished, I need an answer from you. I need to know if you’re going to play nice.” I turn and walk up the stairs, calling behind me as I go, “I’ll throw some clothes down to you before I leave.” I shut the door behind me, snd push the china cabinet back to block her in. I head up to her room, past the wreckage of the previous door, and grab a few handfuls of clothes out of her drawers. I unblock the door, open it and throw the clothes down to her. “You have a few hours, princess, then I’m gonna need an answer.” By mid-afternoon, I’ve replaced the door and cleaned up all traces of our violent encounter that first night. Time to see if Carrie is going to pick the hard road or the easy road… I head down the basement stairs and call out to her. “Okay, beautiful… which is it? Are you going to play nice? I walk downstairs and see Carrie standing next to the bed, still wrapped in a towel. Her eyes look amused rather than resentful. She drops the towel and I see that she’s dressed herself: she’s wearing short black skirt and a spaghetti-strap blue tank top that leaves little to the imagination. She walks over to me slowly and deliberately, and I ready my hand to dart for the stun gun if she gets out of hand. She closes the distance between us, her hips swaying and her breasts softly bouncing. “I”, she announces as she grabs my dick and stands on her tiptoes to reach my ear, “am going to play nice.” With the last word she gives my ear a quick lick with her pierced tongue, and backs up. “Now, fucking spoil me and give me my freedom back, or you’ll have to sacrifice having two more years with this.” Her eyes are steady, calculating, and I am slightly taken aback. Why should it surprise me, though? Carrie is a headstrong teenage girl who’s used to getting what she wants. Maybe she sees this as a way to regain some power in the relationship. Whatever the reasons, I decide to try her out. “Ok, princess” I say. “Let me go get changed and I’ll take you to the mall.” She leans forward and pulls her shoulders in, accentuating her pale and freckled cleavage. “Don’t be too long or I might change my mind”. I climb the stairs and secure the door one last time. While I walk up to my bedroom, I phone Jacob. I find out that Cass is working, but Jacob is free. “Listen man, there’s five hundred bucks in it for you if you’ll tail me and Carrie to the mall. I’m going to try and take her out today, but if she tries to run, I want you to be ready to grab her.”

Carrie and I leave the house together, and she winces and blinks in the bright sunlight. It’s a warm summer evening, and this looks for all the world like a dutiful stepdad taking his daughter to the mall. She’s silent as we drive there, looking out the open window, hair blowing in the wind. We get out and walk in, her with her precocious swagger. I wonder for a moment how young she was when she lost her virginity, when she first gave a blowjob, the first time she felt her mouth fill with a shock of warm cum. She definitely grew up fast, much faster than perhaps she should have, and if not for her mother’s lax discipline perhaps our lives wouldn’t have spiraled into this madness. Would I trade it, though? When this has made me feel alive for the first time in years, and I get the chance to experience that piece of ass? We go shopping, and she spends close to a thousand dollars on clothes and perfume. After a few hours of holding her purse, I start to feel the fire returning to my cock as I watch her bend over to look at clothes, reach up to rifle through purses. I see her looking at dresses, and walk over to her just as she’s holding up a short, slinky black dress that looks just perfect for clubbing. “I think you should try that one on.” “What? No, I don’t really like this one.” “That’s not what I mean. I want to see how it looks on you.” I let my eyes work her over in an obvious manner. “Oh, fuck you. Haven’t you taken enough from me today? Jesus. Just buy me off and be glad I’m not running away screaming that you’re a rapist.” I put my hand on her shoulder, hands clamped a little tighter than necessary. “I have a few guys outside tailing us, ready to grab you if you try and get away. If I were you, I’d be a good girl so that I don’t have to invite them to a party at our house later.” I’m met with icy eyes, but a softer and less defiant look. “Ok”, she says, “Have it your way”. We walk over to the dressing rooms, which are mercifully deserted. I walk her back into one, praying that we’re not seen, and shut the door behind us. “Fuck the dress, princess. Convince me not to call my friends… preferably with your mouth.” She sighs and drops to her knees, unzipping my pants and taking out my throbbing cock. She begins to stroke me, and I watch as her breasts jiggle with the motion. Slowly she opens her mouth and starts sucking my cock with a rhythmic gesture. I reach down and squeeze her tits while she works, feeling my cock pulse harder as I grope her soft, warm breasts. She moves her attention to the end of my dick, stroking hard and fast and slithering her tongue out to tease my head. Between the blowjob and feeling her up, I start to lose my load. I shoot a few gobs of cum onto her lips and tongue, then she takes me into her mouth and locks on to take the rest of the load. I watch her cheeks depress as she sucks the last drop out of me, then she pulls back and wipes the cum off her lips. I consider for a moment how hot it would be to make her walk out of the mall with the cum still on her face… but that would be too great a risk of exposure. We walk out of the mall together with all of her spoils, and return home. When we’re safely inside, I text Jacob and ask him to have a few guys watch the house tonight. If I’m going to give Carrie her freedom back, I need to be sure she’s not going to fuck me over.


In the comments, cast your vote for how this story will end. Does Carrie play nice or try to escape? This decision will greatly impact how the story wraps up.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2zmla5/the_rebellious_stepdaughter_part_5_mfblkmailinc

11 comments

  1. I want to see her make the full transition to a perfect obedient cum slut

  2. maybe tries to run, gets caught, and shows her obedience after the test? Either-way I am waiting for the next part :D

  3. I want her to willing leave with him. Maybe a threesome somewhere down the line with one of her friends?

  4. This is disgusting, simple rape, and it’s not okay. Women are not objects. Please, I mean, expressing your sexuality through writing is okay, but not if it involves raping young women.

  5. I agree with /u/Thalazyrican. I think it’d be awesome if she slowly started to enjoy it over the months, until she just accepted it and enjoy it. Like, didn’t really need the positive reinforcement shopping trips, or the threats. She just enjoys pleasuring him. So once she ‘moves out’, and he dumps wifey, they end up moving away together, as she can’t imagine life being separated from him, even if she is a little uppity towards him (but still not requiring the positive reinforcement). Maybe even he ruins her for other guys. Like she goes out with a guy (or a couple) to get a nice hard consensual screw, but she can’t get off. And with that she realizes that step-dad (can’t think of names at the moment) has been the only one that can make her cum. Something like that? (Amateur erotica writer here, sex ideas like this come somewhat easily :P )

  6. Ummm, getting close to two weeks now. Your fans are eager for the next part. Please do continue. This has such excellent potential, and your style is quite enjoyable. ;-) Thanks!

  7. /u/vinter, I like what you have done in other posts, having read your posts. But here I disagree with you here. It’s only a story. Not the type of story I would write, but still just a story. There is so many of these types of stories, (And SO much worse) that it’s really no use arguing about it. Are you right? Sure!

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